


Rainbows and Shark Teeth

by ac_MaryAgnes



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Cinnamon Roll Fogy, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Foggy Nelson Is a Good Bro, Gen, Marci Stahl is made of kittens and rainbows and shark teeth, Marci wants to make Foggy proud, protect Foggy Nelson, vague waving in the Frank/Karen direction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ac_MaryAgnes/pseuds/ac_MaryAgnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen Page, intrepid investigative journalist, does not have time to clean or fix her apartment.</p>
<p>So Foggy and Marci do it instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainbows and Shark Teeth

Karen Page, intrepid investigative journalist, does not have time to clean or fix her apartment. Foggy finds this out on a Friday night when they meet up for drinks (not at Josie’s, but another bar – some place cleaner, though far from up-scale). And Foggy think’s that’s horrible and sad, and that Karen’s his friend.

Marci thinks that Foggy’s _way_ too nice, but he smiles his sweet smile that makes her chest glow, so she follows him to Karen’s one weekday morning. The investigative journalist is off investigating, and Foggy has a spare key to her building and apartment for emergencies.

“And this,” Marci comments when Foggy opens the bullet-riddled door, “definitely qualifies as an emergency.”

“Right?” Foggy shakes his head, surveying the damage still hanging onto the walls, the dresser and desk. Broken tchotchkes and framed certificates are stacked on them, the bits of glass and most of the shattered ceramics long-since thrown out. The landlord had replaced the glass in the windows and their frames, but everything else was left undone.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Foggy mutters, propping one hand on his waist as the other run through his hair.

Marci nibbles on her lip, taking everything in. “How about… Do you know where she keeps her copy of the lease?”

“Um… her desk? Or the kitchen – I think I saw her put it in the drawer near the fridge when she moved in.”

“Okay,” Marci turns and starts riffling through the desk drawers before moving to the kitchen. “I’m going to look over that and see what sense I can make out of the damages section. You need to start making a list of what needs to be fixed and what needs to be replaced. From there, we’ll prioritize.”

Foggy smiles. “That’s why you’re the best, Marci.”

Marci sighs. “Yeah, I know.”

So Foggy makes lists and Marci flips through the lease agreement, and then marches herself to the first floor so she can menace the landlord into actually paying for the damage of the unit like he was supposed to.

(“Ms Page is clearly not at fault for this incident, Mr DeSteffano, but if you like I can take this issue and your lease agreement up with the New York City Housing Authority and-“

“Fine, ya fuckin’ harpy! Just shut up!”

“Gladly – I’ll get an adjuster out here this afternoon and we’ll have a figure for the required sum to cover the costs by end of business day, today.”)

When she gets back, Foggy’s mostly done with his inventory and Marci put a quick call into her friend at Wheeler’s Claims Adjustments while climbing the stairs. Tom Wheeler has a crush on her that Marci has no problems exploiting for her own purposes, and would be out around 2pm.

They break for lunch at noon, grabbing hotdogs and ice cream from some vendors while they scour the internet for near-by thrift stores for new furniture. They look up hardware stores in the neighbourhood and price out drywall mud, sanding tools, primer and paint. There’s a brief argument about whether they should attempt to match the current colour of the apartment -

(“Part of the reason Karen picked that place was the soft buttery yellow of those walls.”

“Those walls now full of bullet holes.”

“It’s a calming colour!”

“The memory of bullet holes is _not_ calming, FoggyBear.”)

\- before they agree on repainting the main area a cool yet happy blue. The kitchen is already a muted apple green, and surprisingly the only thing really touched are the white cabinet doors and the dishes inside them, which are all easy enough to replace.

Tom Wheeler is prompt (still trying to make a good impression on a pretty girl way out of his league). He is also very, _very_ good at his job. He takes a careful, cataloguing look around Karen’s apartment, comparing what he finds to the lists that Foggy made. A few forms are filled out, a few notes are made on his clipboard, and a net worth of losses is determined. It’s more than enough to cover everything on Foggy’s lists, plus a little extra aside to supplement whatever of Karen’s wardrobe was also damaged in the hail of gunfire.

Marci, extremely pleased with herself and Foggy, marches back to the landlord’s office/home and presents him with a copy of Tom Wheeler’s findings. DeSteffano sneers at the amount, but says he’ll have the check for her at 10 tomorrow morning. Marci sparkles at him her most endearing and charming grin.

“Thank you _so much_ , Mr DeSteffano,” she cooes. “My associate and I will be back tomorrow morning – 10am.”

The door is slammed in her face, but that doesn’t matter. As she joins Foggy on the sidewalk to make their way back to their own apartments, she smiles more genuinely to herself. Her FoggyBear might do nice things for people because he’s an incredibly decent human being, but doing the right thing by getting her way is all the motivation Marci Stahl needs to see this mission through.

* * *

Marci hates supervillians – as if there aren’t enough bad people in the world without them throwing their power-hungry, absolutely insane hands into the game. She’s sort of on the fence about superheroes – the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes kinda fucked her city up (and multiple cities _around the world_ ), but if you’ve got supervillians you kind of need superheroes to fight them off.

And vigilantes? She’s _just not here_ for vigilantes. Seriously, they should all be in jail for inciting terror and property damage, and don’t they know that’s what the police and judicial system is for? Have they _never_ seen Law &Order? The System might suck sometimes, but it’s there for a reason. People can’t just take up their fists or guns or nunchucks for their definition of ‘justice’ or whatever.

But something stops her when she finds… _it_.

Okay, so here’s the deal.

Marci and Foggy have been going about their merry way, patching and painting and replacing all the bullet-filled stuff in Karen’s apartment. Karen cries precious ugly tears of joy when she comes home to smooth blue walls one evening, then a new desk the next. A new door eventually takes over for the old one full of holes, and Marci finds the perfect dresser to replace the one with splintered drawers. Foggy and Marci show up another afternoon, arms laden with finds from the local Housing Works and the GoodWill up on 72nd (totally worth the trip because Foggy finds a complete set of dishes and some really awesome glass tumblers).

And Marci really likes this, feeling like she’s fixing things for someone who was handed a shitty deal. It’s why she wanted to become a lawyer once upon a time. And you know… Foggy looks so proud of her whenever she makes a suggestion about what Karen might want or need, or when she haggles with the cashiers to really try to stretch the check from the landlord. Marci isn’t proud of it, but she’d do just about anything to keep that feeling – that warm and fuzzy light she feels when Foggy looks at her like that (or looks at her at all… or stands too close, or breathes).

So when she’s replacing some of the ruined clothes in Karen’s closet (the last remaining dollars from the check went towards a Nordstrom’s shopping spree – thank you Mr DeSteffano) and finds a black Kevlar vest shoved into the back corner, one with an extremely recognizable spray painted skull on the front that hadn’t been there the past few days she’d been rooting through Karen’s closet… Marci has to pause. Because she is just not here for vigilantes. And if Karen’s got herself mixed up with them, there are very few actions Marci can take and still look at herself in the mirror in the morning. (Yes, even she has that line.)

She determines to think about it and not say anything to Foggy. Because Foggy Nelson is a beautiful cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure, and Karen is his friend. His _last_ friend since something happened with Murdock, sending their Ultimate Bromance tits-up.

So Marci takes a slow deep breath, hangs the vest in the back of the closet (does Kevlar wrinkle?), and keeps unpacking the rest of the beautiful, sophisticated wardrobe she bought Karen. Because she is a good fucking person – Foggy says so.

She also – completely against her will – makes note of the other changes to Karen’s apartment, the ones she and Foggy had no hand in. The new and expensive locks on the windows, the wire they connected to that ran along the ceiling and attached to a new security keypad near the door. The three heavy-duty deadbolts on that door (added after Foggy and Marci already shelled out for one of the best on the market). Foggy had a key to the locks and the code for the pad, but that was for emergencies – not because he had any hand in installing them. Foggy said that Karen had some money stashed away and put them in herself, but given the vest Marci found…

When Karen comes home and cries more precious ugly tears of joy, Marci suggests that they all go out for dinner and drinks to celebrate. They end up at this hole-in-the-wall Japanese place that serves actual sushi and ramen and okonomiyaki and sake. They get full and happy and spend slightly too much money on it all, but they have a good time. And when Karen has to go to the bathroom, Marci goes with her.

She pounces when Karen’s washing her hands.

“I know what you’re hiding,” she says, no preamble. Karen pauses, and even in the crappy light of the bathroom, Marci can see her go pale. Good. “I know about your… friend. And I think it’s a horrible idea, that he’s a bad person, and you both should go to jail – him for what he does, you for aiding and abetting a known mass murderer.”

“Marci –“

“I’m not going to say anything right now,” she clarifies, throwing up a hand to stop Karen from insulting them both by begging. “But if this touches Foggy – if he gets even a mild case of heartburn because of whatever it is you’re involved with – I will end you. Both of you.”

And she smiles her courtroom smile, the one that shows all her teeth. There is no kindness in her eyes, only anger and a severe warning not to cross her.

Karen gives her a shaky nod. “I promise,” she murmurs, “nothing with touch Foggy.”

Marci nods and shrugs, perky and menacing. “Great.”

They return to their table, pay their tab, and walk back to Karen’s apartment building. Goodbyes are said, hugs are given, and Foggy and Marci leave for the night. Marci hales a cab for them to share and as Foggy puts his arm around her once they’re settled in the back seat, she knows she did the right thing.

Nothing will happen to Foggy, and if something does, well… Marci Stahl is in his corner.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I am absolute Kastel trash. Also, what little I've seen of Marci Stahl makes me really like her style. I don't agree with her opinions about superheros or vigilante justice, but she's an opinionated woman and I'm pretty sure that's the opinion she'd have. Overall, though, I hope I didn't make her too vapid-sounding. As I said, I haven't seen enough of her to really understand her voice. Sorry :/


End file.
